


Sorrow is a Strange Creature

by the_song_you_gave_me



Series: Brick in the Wall [8]
Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs, BRIGGS Patricia - Works, Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 00:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_song_you_gave_me/pseuds/the_song_you_gave_me
Summary: Warren’s out for blood after he feels his Alpha fall. Meanwhile, Charles and Anna both fight to maintain control as Darryl and Mercy each face Bran in their own way.





	Sorrow is a Strange Creature

**Author's Note:**

> Grief sucks.
> 
> It doesn't always have to make sense.

Back in the hallway, Darryl’s voice sounds from outside the front door. Charles responds in a muted tone. Mercy quickly trots toward them in her coyote form.

Bran considers for a moment then heads to the kitchen instead.

Clutching a cup of hot chocolate, Anna sits at the breakfast table. All around her are the barbecue dishes laid out on every horizontal surface in the large kitchen. Bran silently grabs a plate and fills it with brisket.

“Would you like a plate, Anna?” he asks. It’s an honest question, without the hint of Bran’s usual suggested command. He still has that Celtic lilt to his voice.

Anna raises a brow but otherwise keeps her eyes averted. He almost growls at himself for his lack of control. The food will help.

“Yes, please.” Anna answers meekly to her mug. That makes two of them acting outside their usual comfort levels. Their Omega could hardly be called meek.

Bran piles another generous helping of brisket onto a second plate. He moves behind his daughter-in-law to reach the bowls of side dishes, even though those weren’t really necessary beside the meat.

Anna blurts out, “Is she okay? I know I messed up. I thought the stupid shirt would make her feel better.”

Bran sets both plates down before leaning forward on the counter. He closes his eyes and takes a solid minute to think out his response, “Mercy isn’t the type to blame anyone for what happens to her.” He turns to meet Anna’s eyes, knowing his own are uncomfortably wolf-yellow.

Their Omega quickly glances down to her cup of hot chocolate.

Bran sighs, “I think it’s possible to appreciate a gesture of kindness, even if that gesture happens to trigger a panic attack. It’s not your fault, Anna.”

Her wry smirk creeps up into half a shy smile. “You don’t know everything, Bran.” Anna breathes out and takes a slow sip. Setting the cup down, she looks his way, her calm almost restored. Humor flashes in her warm, brown eyes, though she doesn’t challenge the wolf long.

The Marrok’s eyes flicker back to hazel. He regards her with silent patience. Anna looks to the kitchen wall, taking another sip. Bran goes back to preparing the plates. He stops at the bowl of potato salad. It smells like Leah who prepared it.

Anna looks over cautiously. She would have caught his scent of grief. He does nothing to hide it.

“Did you get the recipe?” Bran asks.

“No, much as she likes me.” Anna responds, “You know her better than that.”

“Knew.” Bran corrects, still staring at the bowl. “And she did like you… much as she liked anyone.” He decidedly scoops some onto each plate and sits down at the breakfast table beside Anna.

They eat in silence, listening to the muted sounds from the front porch.

“Is that…?” Anna looks up nervously when the scent of the Change drifts on the air coming through the screen door.

Bran takes a bite of potato. The Change usually takes a while, unless the wolf was Charles. Food was more important. It kept tempers down and patience up.

The Marrok meets Anna’s eyes, holding his nonplussed façade through her increasing worry. He helps himself to another bite of potato salad. Anna stares at him incredulously.

“Why aren’t you headed outside?” she asks

“Why should I?” Bran answers quietly to his plate.

“If that’s Mercy… her Alpha just died, Bran. Do you really think her mate’s second will be able to control her new wolf?”

“Anna. Just how dominant do you think Mercy is?” Bran spears a piece of brisket with his fork, “Darryl’s not on his own. Charles should be sufficient help.”

A tense silence falls between them as the pained, whining sounds of a first Change continue. Anna grips the edge of the table as Bran goes through more brisket. The whimpering eventually stops.

A warning growl from outside rips into a snarl. Anna stands up from the table, pushing her chair back. “I’m not waiting for them to fight to figure that out,” she cuts for the front door.

Bran follows her. “Alright, Anna. Let me handle it.”


End file.
